Shopping trip
by glitter-ink-productions
Summary: Isabelle drags Alec into a shopping trip and Alec, fearing the consequences for his mental sanity, escapes into another shop, where he runs into an extremely good-looking clothes seller with sparkling green eyes... Malec AU. One-shot.


**Okay, ****this is my first fanfiction ever and hopefully you like it! I had the idea when I went shopping with my mother a while ago, and I just had to write it . **

**I want to apologize for any strange language mistakes I am making, as I am not a native speaker.  
Constructive critisism is very appreciated!**

**Enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the Mortal Instruments books.**

* * *

„You look _stunning_!" Isabelle exclaimed.

I looked down skeptically. If whatever she had dragged me into was supposed to be a clothing store, it failed dramatically. At least what they sold did not look like something one could call clothes. More like… thin sheets of texture that showed way more than they hid. Just like what I was wearing now – leather pants, which weren't only tight enough to make me feel like they would explode if I even dared to move, but also were _rainbow-colored_. It was a nightmare.

Since I had told her I was gay in a silly and highly regrettable moment of weakness last night, my sister was going crazy. After several fruitless attempts to talk to me about my preferred type of men (which hadn't quite worked out the way she wanted. However she had imagined it, there was _no way _I was going to talk to her about boys!), she had taken my announcement as the perfect opportunity to improve my clothing style, which had bothered her for a long time.

Well, as a result I stood in this so-called clothing store now, in an absolutely ridiculous pair of pants, and planned my escape. It was risky. I might not survive it. An angry Isabelle was nothing one could deal with easily. And if my plan didn't work, she was going to be _furious_. But the alternative was being dressed up like … like … I couldn't really think of a comparison.

Izzy was still scurrying around me, arranging the seat and looking at my ass from each ankle. I, meanwhile, casually scanned the room. This was my chance.

"Um, Izzy," I began, "I think I'd like something darker." Which was not even a lie. "Seriously, just because I'm gay does not mean you can dress me up like _that_. There are limits!"

She sighed. Probably she had anticipated this. "Fine. I'll go look for something else. Go and get out of these." She gestured at the pants and ran off.

I disappeared in the changing cubicle and changed into my own pants – a little too baggy, maybe, and yes, there might be a hole or two in them, but at least they were _comfortable_. I sneaked out of the cubicle, carefully heading for the exit while glancing around in the shop until I spotted Izzy's back. My plan worked out _great_ so far.

I was only a few feet away from my way to eternal freedom when –

"_Alexander Gideon Lightwood!"_ Oh, okay, maybe it didn't work out that well. Damn. I didn't bother turning around, just fastened my pace, leaving the store behind before planning my next move. The mall was big. Maybe I could just go and sit in one of the cafes at the food corner. _But that's where she's going to look for you._ Shit. I glanced back, and felt like I saw her somewhere behind me. Maybe I was just going paranoid, but I decided it was too risky to walk around further and entered a random store.

_Oh shit. _

Well, at least this place was nothing Izzy would ever expect me to go to. Because it was exactly like the store I just had left, just bigger and less crowded. I looked around, ducked my head, pretending to be interested in one of the clothes rails, and debated my situation. I could either stay in here (not a good idea, obviously. What if someone I knew was seeing me in here!?). Or I could go out and find Isabelle. I gulped. She would kill me. Or feed my organs to the ducks and _then_ kill me. The only way to calm her down would be –

"Hey there," a voice said behind me. Well, _purring_ would probably be a more accurate expression. I turned around slowly. The voice belonged to Magnus B., at least according to the sign that was pinned to his shirt (which was purple and glittered. I blinked a few times to make sure I wasn't going crazy.) I raised my eyes to his face. He had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. They were an odd mixture of gold and green and there was something very unusual about them. I wondered –

"Can I help you?" He said and pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Oh." I said, witty as usual. "Um. I don't think so. I'm just – looking around, I guess."

"Are you sure?" This _voice_ was too sexy to be true. "I was just wondering. You have been standing there staring at a hoodie motionless for at least five minutes, you know."

"Oh, yeah." I was still confused by his eyes. Was it their shape? "I am … you could probably call it escaping, I guess. My sister talked me into a shopping trip and wanted to dress me up or something, so I had to get away and now I am hiding." I was babbling. _Keep calm, Alec_, I reminded myself. _This guy is insanely gorgeous, yes, but that's no reason to faint or babble or do something you'll regret later_.

He raised his eyebrow (I was jealous immediately. It just wasn't _fair_ that he could do that.), and oh, his smile really made me want to swoon. "You try to hide in a clothing store because you don't want to go shopping? That's interesting." It was then that I figured out what bothered me about his eyes. The pupils weren't round but shaped like a cat's ones. It had to be contacts, I mused, this form couldn't be natural.

"Yeah" I said lamely and suddenly found myself wishing I was my brother Jace. He always knew what to say.

"Well" Magnus B. said carefully, "I don't want to sound rude, but I can see why your sister did it." My head shot up. How would he know… I wasn't staring at him that obviously, was I? "I mean," he added hastily at the look I gave him, "no offense, but there are _holes_ in your clothing." He said it like it was the worst crime I could possibly commit. I threw a careful glance at his own clothing – I didn't want him to think I'd check him out – and could see why he would care. His clothes mirrored what was sold in the shop. Apart from the glittery t-shirt I had noticed before, he wore boots and tight leather pants (_Raise your head, Alec, raise your god-damn head before you do something stupid_) and a scarf whose color matched the nail polish he wore. I also spotted eyeliner. I had never thought I would like people wearing eyeliner (I mean, I was gay for a reason. If I would appreciate make-up, I would be into girls, wouldn't I?), but it did look kinda hot with him.

I couldn't offend somebody like him for criticizing my clothing. "No, it's fine." I choked out and in the next second, without thinking, "I guess you're right. I might need some new clothes."

I started doubting my mental sanity right after the words were out. Clothes? In this shop? My god. It was almost pathetic what I was doing to stay with this guy for only a few minutes longer. But at least he didn't seem to mind; his face lit up and he grinned, suddenly becoming active. "A good decision, darling. I would die to see your ass in these pants." He winked at me, gripped my wrist and pulled me through the shop into the pants department while I was still busy with assimilating that he had just flirted with me.

"What's your size?" Magnus asked and let his eyes wander over my body. I flushed. Maybe I was imagining it, but it felt like he was stripping me mentally. "Um… 36," I said. Magnus looked at me skeptically. "Can I ask you something? Will I have to plead to make you put these on?" He asked, holding up a black pair of leather pants.

"No," I shook my head violently. "I am not putting these on. Isabelle made me wear similar ones in the shop before. It was terrible. I couldn't move!" He laughed and I watched fascinated how his head tilted back and glitter fell from his hair to the ground at the movement. "Come on, just once. Do it for me!" He looked at me pleadingly. I sighed and took the pants. He jumped, squeaked and spread more glitter. He was _adorable_. And I, really urgently, had to get my thoughts together.

He hushed around in the store, all energy and action, collecting more pants – all of them were dark colors and none of them was leather, I noticed. He respected my style and for some reason, that made me happy, the giggly kind of happy, and I had to suppress a grin while I watched him. He looked somewhat happy, too. Like he had a lot of fun. That was good. He reappeared right in front of me a few minutes later, carrying a huge amount of pants. "I tried to find tuned-down ones." He raised one eyebrow again. "Thanks" I mumbled.

He didn't seem to pay attention but dragged me towards the t-shirts, where he turned around and looked at me. "You seem to prefer dark colors," he stated. I nodded. "But let me tell you something – you should _really_ try to wear something that brings out those gorgeous eyes of yours. Oh, and maybe some green. That sort of stuff. Do you trust me enough to try it out?"

"Do I have a chance?"

"Not really," he smirked. "Come on, let's see what we've got. I promise not to overdo it." He turned around to have a look at the clothes rail and I couldn't help but stare at his ass. "What about this one?" He held up a light blue shirt that had about the color of my eyes. I nodded. It didn't look too bad indeed. "So," he turned back to the t-shirts and the energy was back again. It looked sort of feverish, and I caught myself enjoying to see how involved he was with his work. "Your sister." He dived into a mountain of reduced t-shirts that were laying on a sales desk and pulled out a few. "What's she like?"

I was confused by the question. Why would he mind? Except he was – my stomach clinched at the thought – interested in girls and wanted to – but that didn't make any sense. From all he knew she could be ugly and bitchy, couldn't she? Maybe he was just trying to do small talk. "She's …" I struggled to find a word to describe her, "different from me. More confident. Less awkward. Straight forward. And from the way she acts around me you wouldn't know that she's, in fact, younger than me." I smiled. "Oh, and she's gonna be furious when she finds me." I must have looked really afraid, because Magnus chuckled. "I can tell you are pretty close," he said.

"Yeah," I said. "If not before then at the latest since last night." I regretted the words as soon as they had left my mouth. _Great, Alec. That's what you get for babbling._ Magnus raised the god-damn eyebrow and looked as if about to ask. "You should have a piercing there" I blurted the first thing out that might sidetrack him from the course our conversation had taken. "On your eyebrow, I mean." He grinned. "I will think about that. Come on, let's try them on."

He led me to the cubicles and hushed me inside. I struggled with the pants a little, although they really weren't as bad the other ones earlier this morning, and pulled over a washed green long-sleeved shirt.

Magnus was waiting outside and whistled approvingly when I came out. I could practically _feel_ his gold-green gaze wherever he looked at me. He came closer to adjust my shirt and his fingers lingered on my skin a second longer than necessary. They felt hot. My breath hitched, and then they were gone, leaving an odd tickle behind. I shook my head.

"The shirt's a little big," said Magnus. "I got it for you one size smaller; it ought to be somewhere in that mess inside the cubicle. But the pants – they do look hot." He winked at me, and this time I smiled back.

While I struggled to keep up with the huge amount of clothing Magnus had gathered and tried every single piece on, Magnus started talking about himself. I listened to him over the closed door when he told me he was a fashion design student at NYU and jobbed in the mall on the weekends to pay the rent for his appartment. He didn't have any siblings – at this point I started talking about Jace and Max and Izzy and noticed myself telling him more details about my personal life that I had ever shared with a stranger before. We spotted our equal love for cats when he was just back from his search for a scarf that would match one of the skinny black t-shirts we both had fallen in love with the second I tried them on. Insisting on at least a spark of color, he found a blue scarf to match my eyes and told me how he started wearing scarves after his cat somehow had managed to scratch him at the neck. His cat, apparently, was named Chairman Meow, and I giggled (no sense in trying to deny it) when he said that. It wasn't until I had tried even the last pair of pants on that I restarted paying attention to the time and gasped – I had spent almost four hours in here. I cursed and stumbled out of the cubicle with my second shoe still unlaced. Magnus looked at me questioningly. "Isabelle," I explained, struggling with the shoe. "I completely forgot about her. She is probably scared to death. And freaking out." Magnus grinned a cat-like grin (I had spent a lot of time during the last hour musing about what his cat might look like. It probably was somehow extraordinary, just like its owner). "Then you should better go and find her." He helped me to carry my stuff (it was quite a lot really) to the cashpoint and typed something in. I gave him my credit card and went to enter my pin code when he leaned over the desk. "Well, _Alexander_," he purred my name (I needed a second to realize that he must have read it on the card) and I shivered at his closeness and the intimacy in his voice. "Have a nice day, then." Then he smiled at something behind my shoulder. I turned around and caught the sight of Isabelle, who just came into the store like a fury, heading straight towards me. I gulped and could hear Magnus' quiet chuckle behind me. "ALEC! Where have you been?! What do you _think_ you're doing!?" She was in right in the middle of her tirade when she saw my giant shopping bag and Magnus standing behind the counter. I observed how her eyes widened slightly, but she went on as if nothing had happened. At some point she dragged me out of the shop, determined to continue all the way back home, but when I turned around I could see Magnus, who still hadn't moved away. I smiled at him and could see him smirk back and wink one last time before we passed the door and he was gone.

Isabelle wouldn't let go of me; at first she went on shouting at me, and when she was finished, she wanted to know everything about "that sex god-like looking seller guy" and tried unsuccessfully to squeeze any details out of me; and so it wasn't until I got home and safely locked in my room that I noticed the little sheet of paper that was wrapped carefully inside the blue scarf.

1-616-999-1431 – Call me ;)  
Magnus Bane


End file.
